


The Jedhan Sun

by kimchiboy



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Origin Story, Written Before Rogue One Release So Now It's An AU I Guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-29 07:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8480380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimchiboy/pseuds/kimchiboy
Summary: how Baze Malbus and Chirrut Imwe met.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i was doing a lot of research about Star Wars lore while in Rogue One hype mode and ended up formulating origin stories for my new favorite characters, baze and chirrut. wookieepedia is my new best friend.
> 
> [tera sinube](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Tera_Sinube) is an actual character, he was a minor character in the 2008 Clone Wars animated series. tera, chirrut, and baze are the only canonical characters in this story, all others are minor original characters created for the sake of the plot.
> 
> i'm assuming that baze and chirrut are about 50 years old during the events of Rogue One, since that's about how old their actors are. in this fic they're in their late teens and at the end of the fic i will post a rough timeline of where this fic fits in with canonical events. 
> 
> this story DOES NOT take place in the city that we see in the rogue one trailers; that city is on a high plateau and you probably can't easily walk in and out of it. also, it's a bit unrealistic to say that baze and chirrut would have stayed in that one city their whole lives, especially considering that baze is like an outlaw, and chirrut probably is one too.
> 
> ALSO i know that chirrut isn't canonically force sensitive, he was confirmed to be neither a jedi nor a force user, but i want him to be a force user. i want him to be a force user SO BAD you guys. i want to see more non-jedi force users who use the force in different ways than the jedi and the idea of donnie yen playing a force monk badass is too fucking cool ok. in this fic he has some force powers and he might have no force sensitivity in the actual movie but yknow what fuck it.
> 
> EDIT: THIS WAS WRITTEN BEFORE THE FILM WAS RELEASED. i am aware that this does not align with canon. i planned on writing an epilogue of sorts where baze visits their cave one last time after the rogue one mission, but i decided that i would just leave it as it is and not try to write around canon.

The sun hung low over a small Jedhan farming village, painting the desert oasis in a beautiful, vibrant pinkish-red that the young Chirrut Imwe was not able to appreciate.

"Ah, here we are. Through here, young one," guided the slow-moving Cosian Jedi accompanying Chirrut. The Jedi took one scaly hand off of his walking cane to steer Chirrut into one of the dirt homes. Inside sat a stately, aged woman who hummed a quiet tune over the piece of clothing she was mending. Upon Chirrut's entrance she looked up from her work.

"You must be the blind patient I was asked to treat." Looking at the Jedi, she added, "and are you Master Sinube?"

The Jedi nodded kindly, "Yes, I am Tera Sinube. And this is Chirrut, my protege."

Tera and Chirrut sat across from the stately woman. She looked aged, but aged in the way that people who endured immense hardship aged. Her hair was a majestic, tangled, grey-streaked mane that spilled over her frail shoulders and onto her back. She had a slight pallor to her skin that was visible even under the warm lighting. Her calloused and scarred hands trembled in her lap, but her squared jaw and prideful eyes were striking.

"Master Sinube, my name is Sinse Malbus. I am honored to meet such a skilled Jedi Master, and even more honored to have such a Jedi Master ask for my treatment." Sinse turned her attention to Chirrut, who sat rigid and unsure next to his master.

"Chirrut, how did you become blind?" At the sound of his name, Chirrut's cloudy eyes snapped to Sinse, his gaze hovering over the general direction of her face.

"I…started to go blind when I was twelve. Master Sinube has been teaching me how to use the Force to see without my eyes." He spoke with a measured exactness, and in his voice was an edge of sadness, perhaps frustration with his condition.

"And how old are you now?" she asked as she moved closer to Chirrut and examined his eyes closer.

"Seventeen."

"My son is about that age," she said softly, to no one in particular. She reached up her shaking hand and ran her thumb across Chirrut's eyelid gently and turned his face to different angles to examine how the red sunlight penetrated his cornea.

"It seems to be severe corneal scarring. I treat sickness and injury with the Force, but Chirrut's condition is a remnant of a previous infection or injury. I'm afraid that I cannot perform surgery on his eyes. Have you not tried getting a Jedi Healer's help?"

Tera cast a pained look at Chirrut.

"We have, and they told us the same. I was hoping, actually, that a non-Jedi Force healer might have a few tricks up their sleeves that the Jedi Order does not." Sinse shook her head with a sympathetic smile, saying, "I'm afraid not, Master Sinube. I would be very surprised if there was anything that Jedi Healers could learn from me."

Tera placed a consoling hand on Chirrut's shoulder. Chirrut had gone very still.

"Young one, I apologize for getting your hopes up. But you must release your disappointment and negativity, decisively and deliberately. Channel it all into the Force."

After a difficult moment, Chirrut nodded with a whispered "yes, Master".

"I truly am sorry for not being of more help," Sinse bowed her head in respect as Tera and Chirrut got up to leave, "May the Force be with you."

While exiting the home, Chirrut almost bumped into the person entering the home, but he felt the person's presence in the Force and stopped short, eyes locking onto the figure he could sense before him.

Baze Malbus, covered in grime and sweat from farmwork, glanced at Chirrut, whose clouded eyes seemed to gleam with fire in the setting sun's fuchsia glow. Baze looked at the Cosian behind him, dressed in Jedi robes, and stepped out of the doorway to let them pass.

"Sorry," he grunted as the two walked out of his house. The gnarled Cosian Jedi nodded and smiled at him. Baze cast one last look at the retreating figures before going into his house and greeting his mother. Chirrut and Tera could hear their conversation as they walked away.

"I'm home."

"Baze Malbus, I told you to stop bringing your dirty tools inside the house! And why have you come back so early? You rarely ever come back before dark."

Chirrut smiled, amused at the familial banter. With a mixture of nostalgia and heartache he recalled his own mother, but quickly put the thought out of his head. His Master discouraged him from dwelling on painful pasts.

"Master, may I make my own way home?" Tera looked his protege up and down, weighing his faith in his navigational capabilities.

"Hm, well…I suppose I'll allow it. But you'd better be careful!"

"Of course, Master."

Tera gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before setting on an alternate path back to the Jedi temple where they resided.

Chirrut grasped the staff that had previously been strapped to his back and took a few deep breaths before letting his eyelids fall. Reaching out mentally with the Force, he could feel the presence of the solid masses of buildings around him. His midichlorian count was not high enough to qualify him for Jedi training, but with practice he was now able to use the Force to roughly sense his surroundings. He took a few more deep breaths to compose his concentration, and started walking.

 

* * *

 

Baze Malbus sat slouched in the corner of a crowded Jedhan drinking hole, wearing shabby clothes and even shabbier armor. His face looked youthful but his hardened eyes and grim scowl blended him in with the rest of the crude, brutish crowd. He had been sitting there for half an hour, alternating between polishing his DL-12 heavy blaster pistol and sharpening his machete, stealing dark glances at one particular man who had been roughhousing two tables over. The roughhouser's name was Hepke Aston.

Hepke groped the Pantoran girl he had been flirting with as he said a slurred goodbye. Upon seeing this, Baze slipped out through a side door into the cool desert night, shrouding himself in the darkness of the alleyway next to the drinking hole as he waited for Hepke, who had left earlier than he had predicted, given that the lecher had really been hitting it off with that Pantoran woman. Hepke stumbled out the door and immediately bent double to vomit on the sandy ground, answering Baze's confusion about his early exit.

The jewelry on Hepke's arms and neck jangled as he straightened up. Baze watched the moonlight glint off of the expensive metals and his concentration lapsed for a moment. He would be set for three months, no, four months with that. Baze's hand hovered over his blaster pistol before he decided to follow Hepke until he got farther away from the drinking hole, to lessen the chances of the Jedhan police forces finding some random drunk who could identify him as the assassin who murdered Hepke Aston, the son of the affluent Aston family.

Hepke had barely gone three steps before he bumped into a passerby and proceeded to become hostile. His curses and insults were muddled by the din of the drinking hole, but they still echoed through the otherwise quiet streets. Panicking slightly, Baze shot Hepke Aston through the top of his skull before his voice could attract unwanted spectators.

Hepke fell forward and the passerby he had been shouting at broke his fall. Baze cursed under his breath—he had forgotten to account for the sole witness, the passerby. But what was done is done, and Baze charged forward to apprehend the passerby before the passerby could scream for help.

But when Hepke's body slid onto the ground and the passerby turned his attention to Baze, Baze faltered in his tracks, tripped up by the recognition of those clouded blue eyes.

"What—you?" he whisper-shouted.

Chirrut did not respond, immobilized by fear and confusion. He had only been looking for a way to avoid further conflict with the stranger that stank of alcohol and vomit when he suddenly sensed the Force leave the stranger's body and felt the body land on him. It was at that moment that Chirrut finally understood what his Master meant by "a disturbance in the Force". Chirrut's shaky hands gripped his staff tightly as he fought to regain some sense of unity with the Force to try and make out his surroundings. His efforts were made futile as Baze shoved him backwards into an alleyway, further disorienting him.

"Stay silent. I won't hurt you," Baze said, trying to sound reassuring. He felt guilty for getting one of his mother's patients mixed in with his side job.

Baze carefully hoisted Hepke's body into the darkness of the alleyway. He worked quickly, sliding the jewelry off of Hepke's arms and fingers and stuffing them in his pockets.

The last piece of jewelry Baze pilfered off of Hepke was a pendant, a plump, luminous pendant that seemed to glow in the moonlight. After putting it in a separate pocket from the other jewelry, he moved to grab Chirrut and was promptly met with Chirrut's staff striking his chest.

"Oof!"

The force of the hit pushed him out of the alley and into the street, but his chest armor protected him from any injury. Chirrut struck him again and again, face grim with determination, and Baze blocked the hits with his forearm armor. Chirrut's attacks were quick and powerful, but without strategy or clear thought. Baze could predict most of his movements.

"Stop, I'm not trying to hurt you!" Baze grabbed the staff, attempting to wrestle it out of Chirrut's grasp, but the staff snapped in half and Baze's half of the staff bashed into Chirrut's forehead as Baze fell forward from the sudden fracture.

Chirrut fell, knocked out. A few tense moments passed as Baze stood, with the broken staff still in his hands, realizing what he had done.

"Oh, hell."

 

* * *

 

Chirrut woke laboriously, head fuzzy and memories patchy. He tried to get up, needles shooting through his brain with each movement, but two steady hands eased him back down.

"Don't try to get up yet," said a gruff, familiar voice. Chirrut briefly remembered fighting this person, but his heavy fatigue prevented his fight-or-flight response from triggering.

After a few long moments, Chirrut finally regained enough control over the Force to identify the person next to him as the person he had almost bumped into while exiting Sinse Malbus's home that same day. He gave a valiant effort to try reaching out further with the Force to determine where he was, but his head started protesting and he gave up. The only clues to his location were the rocky ground beneath him and the bonfire crackling beside him.

"Are you…Sinse's son?" Chirrut croaked out.

"Yeah."

For a minute they listened to the bonfire pop and hiss. Then, almost startlingly, Baze got on his hands and knees and touched his forehead to the ground in an act of remorse.

"I…didn't mean to harm you. Please forgive me."

"That's a funny thing for a murderer to say," Chirrut quipped, his memory coming back to him in pieces. Baze's hands curled into fists and he gritted his teeth, forehead still touching the ground.

"I am an _assassin_. And I'm doing this for my mother. Who healed you, in case you forgot."

Chirrut, feeling marginally better, sat up against the wall behind him. The wall felt uneven against his back, telling him that he was either in a cave or leaning against a rock face. Either way, he knew he was no longer in the city. He loathed the thought of walking all the way back with his head pounding like this, but also loathed the thought of calling his Master and admitting that he had failed the simple task of walking home.

"Sinse didn't heal me, actually. She told me she couldn't help me with my blindness." Chirrut reached up and felt the tender bump on his forehead, remembering his staff snapping in two.

Baze, now much less apologetic, got up from the ground and sat more comfortably on the floor of the cave. He had found this enclave while scavenging, and used it to store his armor and weaponry.

"No matter. I have my reasons. A cushy Jedi like you would never understand," he scowled.

"I am not part of the Jedi Order. I just train under Master Sinube to learn how to use the Force to get by without my eyesight."

Baze said nothing in response.

"Assassin, what is your name?"

Baze looked up, searching Chirrut's face before responding.

"Baze Malbus. Yours?"

"Chirrut Imwe."

More terse seconds passed. Unsure of what to do, Baze threw another log into the fire. He wasn't sure how he was going to get Chirrut to stay silent on his assassination. Baze realized that he probably shouldn't have told him his name—but, then again, he did know his mother's name. Chirrut would've found him out eventually, if he had wanted to. Baze reached into his pocket and felt the smooth metal of one of Hepke Aston's rings, eyes returning to Chirrut.

_I could buy his silence….but a follower of the Jedi wouldn't value wealth._

"…are you planning on ratting me out?" Chirrut almost smiled at Baze's bluntness.

"Are you going to kill me if I am?" Chirrut finally turned his head towards Baze, his eyes unseeing but still searching, his almost-smile betraying a hint of amusement.

Baze said nothing, hoping that his silence would come across as an intimidating affirmative.

"I don't think you have it in you," said Chirrut, turning his face back to the warmth of the fire, "you could've easily killed me before I woke, but you didn't." Baze's eyes darkened.

"And even if you did have it in you, I don't fear death," Chirrut added. Baze scoffed.

"You're too young to be unafraid of death. You Jedi are ridiculous."

Chirrut heard Baze get up and start tramping around, shifting around what sounded like scraps of metal. Judging by the slight echo of Baze's boots on the ground, Chirrut deduced that he had taken him to a cave.

"No one is too young to know the inevitability of death. The Jedi are guardians of peace. To them, death is unavoidable. To die is to become one with the Force, and I believe the Force will take me when the time is right."

"You're just like my mother. Always putting your faith in some magic nonsense you can't see," Baze spat bitterly. Chirrut laughed at that.

"The Force is all I _can_ see, Baze."

Baze paused, realizing his mistake. Unable to come up with anything else to shoot back with, he threw off the last of his armor and sat back down.

Chirrut took a deep breath before speaking again.

"My Master, Master Sinube, specializes in criminal activity on the Jedi Order's homeworld, Coruscant. He's told me of many of the cases he's solved in the past centuries."

 _Centuries?_ Baze thought as he recalled the elderly Cosian Jedi.

"Once he tracked down an elusive sniper for months before finally catching her and learning that she only did it to protect her daughter, who was being held hostage by a powerful gang. The sniper was sentenced to prison for life and once my Master arrested the gang, he found out that the child was killed the instant her mother was jailed."

Baze waited for Chirrut to get to his point.

"My Master told me that he wished he'd never caught that sniper. He said that most criminals aren't evil, and that it was draining to punish them when he knew that they were only trying to get by in a world that wouldn't let them succeed. Even the gang members that held the sniper's daughter hostage were doing so to protect their families from the blackmailers that they forced the sniper to kill."

Chirrut looked up at Baze, and for a moment Baze thought that Chirrut must be lying about being blind, because his hazy, icy blue eyes looked straight into his own.

"Perhaps…if you would let me understand why you do this…I will consider not telling my Master about the assassin I met today."

"…so, you're saying if I feed you a good enough sobstory, you won't get me arrested?" Baze said, grinning slyly. He expected Chirrut to laugh at this, but he just held that sincere, serious gaze. Baze's shit-eating grin slid off of his face.

"I hope that I can trust you to not lie to me."

Baze scoffed again and broke eye contact with Chirrut to stare into the fire. The bright flames seared his eyes, but Baze would rather stare at the scorching desert sun than have Chirrut's eyes pierce into his very thoughts like that again. Baze fidgeted with the jewelry in his pocket.

"Fine. I'll tell you."

Chirrut smiled, but Baze did not see it.

"You probably didn't notice when you met her, but my mother is very sick."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's not contagious, though. My father died a few years back and my mother got seumadic fever from the stress. She recovered, but seumadic fever damages your heart permanently. She can barely walk, and she might die from heart failure."

Baze paused as he added another log, sighing from the weight of his story. He didn't often talk about this.

"My mother Force heals herself daily, but I know that it won't help. So I became an assassin to buy medicine that'll make her heart stronger. I know a guy who gets it straight from Coruscant Medical—says it's the best medical center in the galaxy. I mix the tablets in with her food."

Baze glanced at Chirrut before continuing.

"Being a farmer is perfectly fine, until you need something that you can't make yourself. I turned to stealing first, but assassination gets you credits a hell of a lot faster. And medical supplies from the best medical center in the universe aren't cheap. That medicine guarantees that her heart won't fail. She might still be a little weak, but she won't die."

His words hung in the air between them, and Chirrut still made no movement or acknowledgement.

"So there you have it. I became an assassin to buy medicine for my dying mother. Is that enough for you, Jedi?" Baze taunted.

Chirrut sighed and his eyelids shut.

"I am not a Jedi."

He slowly opened his eyes again, a pained expression on his face. The dancing firelight reflecting off of his pale eyes gave them a strange life of their own.

"If I were, I probably would have exposed you as a criminal. But…I do not have a sense of justice like theirs. A Jedi makes decisions for the benefit of the universe as a whole but I have not pledged to protect the universe like they have. As such…my selfishness still dictates my actions. I think that if I were you, Baze, I would do the same for my mother—I mean, Master."

Chirrut's face burned, remembering his mother. His head ached and he hoped that Baze would ignore his slip-up and save him the pain of explaining.

"Don't have a mother anymore?" Baze was, apparently, not going to let it slide.

Chirrut winced, but thought it was only fair to explain after he asked Baze to tell him about _his_ troubles.

"I…well…my parents abandoned me when I was twelve because I started to go blind. They left me on the steps of the Jedi monument on the edge of the city—do you know the one?"

"Yeah. I've seen it."

"My Master was on Jedha for a pilgrimage and he found me, blind and helpless, on the steps of that monument, so he took me in and taught me how to use the Force. He wanted me to go through Jedi training and be his Padawan, but unfortunately I'm weak with the Force. Master Sinube has stayed here for the past five years to train me."

Chirrut smiled a sad smile, and put thoughts of his parents out of his mind.

"When you're as old as my Master, five years is nothing."

"Hm," Baze grunted affirmatively.

Chirrut turned his sad smile towards Baze.

"Well, Baze, now that we've exchanged sobstories, I think it's time for me to get home."

"Are you feeling okay?" Chirrut heard concern in Baze's voice.

"I think I can walk. But you're going to have to take me to the Jedi temple. I don't think I'll be able to use the Force right now," Chirrut said as he made to get up. Baze went to his side, helping him get to his feet. Baze smelled like metal and sweat.

"That's the least I can do after knocking you out."

Chirrut steadied himself against the wall as Baze left his side to put out the bonfire.

"Do you want your staff back?"

"Ha! Didn't you break it?" Chirrut laughed.

"Just thought you might want it back," Baze grumbled lightly as he threw the staff halves onto his pile of armor and stolen jewelry and covered the heap with a tarp. He put his hand on Chirrut's back and gently shoved him in the right direction.

"This way," Baze grunted. He let out a more surprised grunt when Chirrut fumbled for his hand and grasped it tightly, in the way he had only seen lovers do. Baze froze.

"…what? How else are you going to lead me home?" Chirrut seemed equally as embarrassed as Baze, his face turned down towards the wall. Baze cleared his throat and started walking, Chirrut following close behind so as not to trip on anything in front of him. He hoped that Baze had enough common sense to not walk too close to any obstruction and lead him into it.

They walked out of the cave with no problems, and Chirrut inhaled the biting desert night air. Baze tugged him to the right and they walked for a long while in silence. The desert was an easy, gently hilly hike, but the fatigue of walking put a strain on Chirrut. Sharp needles of pain pierced his skull and he rested his head on Baze's shoulder as they walked, hand moving up from Baze's hand to his forearm.

Baze was unaccustomed to such intimacy, but found that he did not hate it. Chirrut's hand resting lightly on his arm felt pleasant, and the weight of his head on his shoulder was grounding. The village he grew up in was quite friendly and did not discourage physical affection, but Baze had always been gruff and withdrawn. He wasn't close to anybody his own age. Though, the village children always seemed to take an interest in him.

They approached the city without issue.

"We're in the city now," Baze said, meaning to assure Chirrut that they were close. Chirrut took his head off Baze's shoulder and loosened his hold on Baze's arm. Baze was about to tell him that he didn't mind Chirrut touching him, but realized that Chirrut probably stopped leaning on him to avoid suspicion. People displaying affection in public drew more eyes than people who were simply walking in public.

"Already? Your cave is quite close."

"Yeah."

Baze walked Chirrut to the Jedi temple in the southern sector of the sprawling city. It was an intimidating structure, three times as tall as the buildings around it and with images of important Jedi Masters carved on every inch of it. The city Chirrut called home was not the largest nor the holiest city on Jedha, but it was still an important city to the history of the Jedi.

"Is this the one?" Baze asked. There were four other smaller Jedi temples in the city but Baze assumed that Chirrut's master, a Jedi Master from Coruscant, would reside in the largest Jedi temple. Chirrut concentrated on using the Force, head ringing from the effort.

"Yes, it is. Thank you, Baze," Chirrut said as he let go of Baze's arm, "I would've liked to have you help me get to my room, but it would be unwise to let anybody else see you with me."

"Yeah. It would be."

"Then, farewell."

"Yeah. Bye."

Baze watched Chirrut walk across the simple courtyard. He walked agonizingly slowly, putting deep thought into where he placed each step. Baze had hoped that he had not done lasting damage to Chirrut, and that his difficulty walking would wear off, but it seemed that Chirrut had been sorely injured when Baze knocked him unconscious. Baze decided to check on him the next morning.

 _I'm becoming my mother_ , Baze thought, annoyed with himself, _always worried about people I don't need to worry about._

He walked away after the doors closed behind Chirrut. He wove through rarely-used alleyways and narrow streets until he reached the garden of the Lunon family's mansion. A shadowy figure stood against a tree, waiting for him. The figure stepped out of the tree's shadow and into the moonlight and glared at Baze.

"You're late," said the young Sarkhai woman. Her pale skin and eyes glowed in the moonlight and the red markings on her face made her seem ghostly.

"I was taking care of a witness," Baze answered calmly, "Hepke Aston is dead."

"And you didn't bring me his head?"

Baze, growing annoyed, gritted his teeth.

"I don't work like that. You'll hear about his death tomorrow. Here's your pendant." He pulled the luminous pendant out of his pocket and the Sarkhai woman's dark eyes sparkled. She took it from him, still glaring.

"Then you'll get your payment tomorrow, _after_ I hear about it. The Lunon family will not be scammed by some lowlife mercenary."

Baze bit back an outburst. Rich families like the Lunons did not take well to insults—they hired him to kill Hepke Aston because he stole a piece of jewelry at one of their parties—and it was completely possible for him to miss out on his payment if he said anything.

"Fine."

Baze turned and quickly left. It was late and he had little time left in the night to sneak back home and feign sleep before his mother woke.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Baze told his mother he was going to the city. It was not a rare occurrence for him; he would usually spend his days wandering the city if all the fieldwork had been done for the season. He loaded up a bag with the late Hepke Aston's jewelry, taking care to pickpocket-proof it, and set off.

He passed by the Jedi temple first, hoping for the off-chance of catching a glimpse of Chirrut, but did not see any activity near the temple. He then dropped by the Lunon family estate, where the Sarkhai woman who had denied him payment last night forked over the agreed amount after hearing about Hepke Aston's death in the news. Baze took the credits and left quickly; a dirty farmworker hanging around the Lunon mansion was cause for suspicion.

It was about midday when Baze traveled back to the Jedi temple. He stood in its shadow, staring up at it, for a few minutes, trying to figure out a plan to find Chirrut, until a Jedi exited the temple, after which Baze immediately turned tail and disappeared. Getting questioned by a Jedi while carrying blood money was not a good idea.

Baze found a jewelry store that would buy his jewelry without questioning where he got it. Bag full of credit coins, Baze became increasingly on edge. He made a direct beeline to his medicine dealer's post. His dealer was a stodgy Advozse man named Typaln Det, whose bulging black eyes and incessant cynicism made Baze wish that nicer people would start smuggling heart medicine so that he wouldn't have to keep going to Typaln.

The transaction was quick and dirty and Baze left with much lighter cargo, a small pouch of pressed tablets. He kept a few credit coins this time, and bought dao-ben steamed buns with the money.

He decided to check the Jedi temple one last time before returning home. He stood leaning against a repair shop bordering the left side of the temple's courtyard, eating one of the steamed buns, trying to blend in with the rest of the populace and keeping his eyes on the temple's door. He had been standing there for only a few minutes when he heard Chirrut calling him.

"Baze!"

His head snapped to the side and he saw Chirrut jogging towards him from the back of the temple. He had a new staff strapped to his back and seemed to be in fine condition.

"Don't just shout my name out loud like that," Baze growled when Chirrut came close.

"Sorry," said Chirrut, smiling as if he were greeting a friend. Baze wondered if they were friends.

"How did you know I was here?" asked Baze, scowl relaxing into a neutral amiability.

"I felt your Force. At first I thought you were just passing by, but you stood in one place for some time so I knew you were trying to find me."

"Hm. Seems like dumb luck to me. I was here twice already and you didn't sense me." Chirrut chose to ignore this remark.

"Why are you here, anyways? There are many Jedi here. It isn't safe for you," whispered Chirrut. Baze paused, suddenly remembering his original purpose for finding Chirrut.

"Just wanted to see if you were okay," Baze said, rather indelicately, "…are you?"

Chirrut laughed. Baze was glad that Chirrut couldn't see his embarrassment, but he had a feeling that he could probably sense it.

"I am. The Jedi Healers were treating me for a concussion this morning, but I am fine now." Baze felt a twinge of guilt.

"I am sorry. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you—"

"I told you, I'm completely healed now! The Force can heal minor concussions very easily. There is no longer anything to be sorry about."

Baze nodded, an action that Chirrut did not see. There were a couple moments of unsure silence.

"…want a dao-ben bun?" Baze offered.

"I do."

Baze placed one of the buns in Chirrut's outstretched hand, making sure that it was firmly in Chirrut's grasp before taking his hand off the bun, so that Chirrut would not drop it. Chirrut gave Baze a searching look as he bit into it.

"You know, you don't have to be so careful around me. My Force training allows me to do many things that seeing people do."

"Alright. Didn't mean to underestimate you."

"Ha. Those who underestimate me are the most satisfying to spar with," grinned Chirrut.

This time, it was Baze's turn to grin, "didn't you _lose_ our ‘sparring match' yesterday?"

Chirrut scoffed, finishing the last of the bun.

"That was my first real fight, believe it or not. And I was quite shaken from a literal _corpse_ landing on me. In my prime I can even take on some of the Jedi Knights back at the temple."

"Your first fight?" Chirrut heard a bit of incredulity in Baze's voice.

"Yes, it was my first real fight. I usually don't go instigating fights out on the street."

"Of course. Would be against the Jedi code, wouldn't it?"

"Again, not a Jedi, Baze." Chirrut leaned against the wall, an easy smile on his face.

Baze returned his easy smile and they stood in a relaxed silence for a moment. The day was starting to cool as the sun began to set.

"Well, if that's all you came here for, I guess you must be going. You probably don't want to hang around somewhere with this many Jedi," Chirrut remarked, standing up straight and making to leave.

"Wait! I mean, uh—" Baze faltered, unsure of what he was going to say but sure that he didn't want to say goodbye to Chirrut. Now that he had no more excuses to be around him, he was going to have to _ask_ to be around him.

"Are you busy? Do you wanna do something together?" Baze asked lamely. Chirrut was a little taken aback by this, and Baze's confidence in himself plummeted, until Chirrut recovered and gave him a smile.

"That would be nice. Have you eaten dinner?"

Baze shook his head, but then, remembering that Chirrut couldn't see it, said, "I haven't."

"Dinner it is, then."

 

* * *

 

At Baze's cave, Chirrut, holding Baze's blaster pistol, lined up a shot. After a moment of bated breath, he fired—and the worrt in the distance dropped dead. Baze barked a short laugh.

"Ha! So you _were_ telling the truth."

"Of course I was. My Force powers make me a very accurate shot," Chirrut gloated as he handed the pistol back to Baze. The two of them trekked over to the worrt that they planned on roasting for dinner and carried it back to the fire together. The worrt was not a very appetizing-looking animal, but they both knew that the desert was never home to pretty creatures.

Baze butchered the carcass, separating the inedible head, with its venomous tongue, from the body, along with the rubbery, thorny skin. With a practiced hand, he cut out the meaty, edible parts of the worrt's rotund torso and prepped the limbs for roasting. He was about to hand the meat off to Chirrut and go dispose of the waste parts, but hesitated.

"You know how to cook over a fire, right?" Baze asked, hoping Chirrut would not take it personally.

"I'm a quick learner," Chirrut grinned, and Baze could not tell if he was joking. At this point, though, Baze trusted Chirrut enough to relinquish control of his dinner to him.

Baze left to dispose of the inedible parts. They were starting to stink, and he needed to move fast if he was going to get enough distance between the waste dump and his cave to prevent any predators from targeting his cave.

 _Probably have to keep my blaster by me while we eat_ , he mused as he jogged back, already smelling roasted worrt in the air.

"The legs are done," Chirrut said as Baze seated himself. Baze took a roasted leg and bit into it. The meat was deliciously done: stringy, juicy, and almost falling off of the bone.

"Are you really a quick learner or have you done this before?" Chirrut laughed and took a leg for himself after taking the torso cuts off of the fire.

"I just used my sense of smell," he professed.

Baze wondered if Chirrut acted mysterious on purpose or if he was just naturally a cryptic, enigmatic person.

That evening, they shared jovial conversation, a filling meal, and a glorious sunset. Baze no longer wondered if Chirrut was his friend. He'd never really experienced a relationship similar to the one they shared, but he didn't need experience to know that this was friendship.

 

* * *

 

"It's strange, how we managed to get so close when you're always so _taciturn_ all the time," Chirrut jabbed, a lopsided grin on his face. Baze just laughed in reply.

They had begun a comfortable camaraderie in the past months, Baze and Chirrut. Though they belonged to separate worlds, they managed to meet often—Baze would hang around the Jedi temple on days he was unoccupied, Chirrut would quickly find him and leave with him to the cave, and they would spend time together. They talked, wrestled, bantered, laughed, rested with their heads on each others' shoulders.

It was precisely because they belonged to separate worlds that they were able to foster such a close relationship; in each others' presence, nobody else mattered. Nobody could be more important, nobody could cleave their bond, nobody was there to have to keep up appearances for. They left their separate worlds for each other, and only each other. What had begun as a thin thread of association had strengthened into an attachment that both Baze and Chirrut treasured.

Currently they sat outside the cave, enjoying the cooling late afternoon air. They knew they had to leave soon to go back to their separate lives, their separate worlds, but for the moment they could enjoy the arid desert nature together.

"Has your mother noticed you going out to the city more?" Chirrut asked, genuinely curious.

"She hasn't said anything about it."

After a moment, Baze added, "I always spent a lot of time out of the house, anyways."

"I see," mused Chirrut.

"What about your Master?" returned Baze.

"He's noticed. He's relieved about it, I'm sure. I used to just stay inside and meditate or train all the time. I'm sure he's glad to see me be more independent."

Chirrut shifted and sighed, "can't stay under Master Sinube's wing forever."

Baze said nothing, so Chirrut continued to pour out his thoughts.

"I think that I'll probably leave the temple soon. I don't know what I'll do, but I want to make my own fortune now. Master Sinube has taught me many things, but there is much I wish to learn on my own."

Baze wondered if that meant Chirrut would leave the city and leave him, but he chose to not bring it up.

"My Master actually wanted to try to get me into the Jedi Order again, but I refused. I have realized that the Jedi Order's teachings are not well-suited to me," Chirrut admitted, then turned his head towards Baze, "and it was you who made me realize that, Baze."

Baze looked at him, eyebrows raised, "Me?"

"Yes. I've spent the last five years of my life trying to live up to the Jedi's reputation for selflessness, but meeting you has made me realize that I enjoy living for myself much more than living for peace."

"Everybody does."

"No, not everybody. Do you think that my Master would spend hundreds of years helping people if it wasn't what made him the most happy?"

Baze, having no rebuttal, fell silent. Chirrut sighed and faced the sky again.

"The Jedi Code has guided me well, in many respects. But I don't wish to be bound by it. I don't wish to be bound by _anything_."

Baze nodded in agreement to this.

They sat in quietude again, as Chirrut mulled over his future. Seeing the sky start to redden, Baze stood.

"Better go soon," he warned. Chirrut got up to comply, and they both stood at the entrance of the cave to bid each other farewell.

But before they said goodbye, Chirrut fell silent and contemplative for a moment, then made an odd request.

"Baze, may I touch your face?"

"What?"

"I want to touch your face to get an idea of what you look like. You know, because I can't see," Chirrut explained, rather plainly.

"Oh. Go ahead," Baze smiled fondly.

Chirrut mirrored his smile, though he did not see it, and reached for the top of Baze's head, palm smoothing his hair down past his shoulders.

"Your hair is this long?" Chirrut asked, incredulous.

"You never noticed?" Baze chortled.

Chirrut just laughed and shook his head. He laced his fingers in Baze's tangled hair, feeling the weight and texture. His other hand came up to the other side of Baze's face, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Chirrut's fingers then traced the outlines of his face, starting from the top of his forehead to the beginnings of his jaw. He rested his hands on his cheeks, thumbs running over the skin under his eyelids. He moved his hands up, fingertips fluttering over Baze's eyelids and prompting him to close them. He smoothed over his eyebrows and moved to the bridge of his nose, dragging down slowly before placing his hands back on either side of Baze's face. His thumb stroked Baze's lips and Baze flinched, but Chirrut had already moved on to his goatee and mustache.

"Facial hair, too. I didn't expect that."

He let one of his hands drop down to rest on Baze's shoulder as he caressed Baze's jaw again. He smiled amusedly and laughed softly, for reasons Baze could not decipher. Before Baze could open his mouth to question him, Chirrut placed his thumb on the corner of Baze's lips and, using the placement of his thumb as a reference point, leaned in and matched his lips with his own.

Baze froze. Chirrut pulled back after a lengthy moment, hand now lingering on Baze's neck. He still held a soft smile, but his clouded eyes conveyed something complex. Wordlessly, Baze grabbed the back of Chirrut's head and pulled him in and kissed him hard, with a grave intensity of emotion.

Neither of them knew what to do with themselves. They let their minds empty, and instinct guided them to move their mouths together, to press every square inch of their bodies together and kiss each other like they were drowning.

When they broke apart Baze buried his face in the crook of Chirrut's neck, breathing hard and heart pounding in his ears. He heard Chirrut's brisk pulse through the flushed skin of his neck and he shut his eyes. He felt so good, so fine, so utterly _happy_ that his heart expanded and tore at his chest almost painfully.

Their breathing slowly stilled as they stood, holding each other. It occurred to Baze that they might need to exchange a few words about this new development, but he quickly waved away the thought. At that moment there was nothing they could say to each other that they couldn't just _do_ to each other.

At that moment, the setting sun blanketed them in an auroral red light, coloring them the same hue as the rock and sand around them.

At that moment, as they embraced, they became one soul, forged together by the firelight of the Jedhan sun.

 

* * *

 

Tera Sinube was in the courtyard, speaking with two Jedhan Police officers, when Chirrut, still giddy from his tryst, returned to the Jedi temple. As Chirrut approached his Master, he heard the officers salute a farewell to Master Sinube.

"Hello, Master."

"Chirrut, my boy! You have returned."

"Were those police officers?" Chirrut inquired, trying to keep his voice level and mind clear of worry. Ever since he first met with Baze, Chirrut had begun to be wary of the police, lest they find any connection between him and his assassin friend.

"Yes, yes, they were. Just closed a case today—caught a pharmaceutical counterfeiter, the slimy rascal. Named Typaln Det. Quite well-known, apparently."

The back of Chirrut's neck prickled with a growing sense of dread.

 _It couldn't possibly be Baze's supplier_ , Chirrut hoped.

"Sold fake medicine?" Chirrut inquired, his voice much calmer than he felt.

"Yes, and made an absolute killing off of it, too. Advertised it as drugs smuggled from Coruscant Medical—could you imagine? Coruscant Medical!" Tera laughed at the incredulity of the idea of anyone smuggling drugs from the most secure and most advanced medical center in the galaxy, but Chirrut could only muster a weak smile as he tried to mask the sirens blaring in his head.

Tera could see his protege struggling with something, but chose to disregard it. Protective as he was, he respected Chirrut's self-reliance.

"Will you be leaving again, young one?" he asked with a knowing smile. Chirrut did not know exactly what his Master knew, but he was thankful that his Master did not question him.

"I…will go for a short walk, Master."

"Go right on ahead, Chirrut," Tera said, laying a gentle hand on Chirrut's shoulder.

Chirrut left the city, breaking into a run after he was out of his Master's line of sight. He was a capable runner, but as he sprinted across the dunes that separated the city from Baze's village, he wished that he had wings, or a warping device, or at least a speeder. The distance between him and Baze seemed impossibly long.

He didn't even know what would be the use of running to tell Baze that the medicine he had been buying for his mother was counterfeit. The man had been jailed already, so Baze wouldn't be buying any more medicine off of him anyways. Chirrut slowed down, catching his breath in the middle of the cold desert.

 _If I had been cheated like that, I would want to know immediately_ , Chirrut reasoned, _and then I'd want to kill the bastard who did it._

He squared his resolve and broke out into a sprint again.

As he approached the village, Chirrut was half-surprised. He had only traveled there once, and didn't expect to remember where it was. It seemed that his feet just took him there.

 _It's thanks to the Force, probably_ , he thought, and bowed his head momentarily in a gesture of reverence to the Force.

Though it was nighttime, many of the villagers were still walking about. A couple of children started following Chirrut, apparently intrigued by the sweaty blind stranger. Chirrut was about to ask the children where he could find the Malbus home when he heard a loud crash, a clatter of furniture, and Baze's voice shouting for his mother.

Chirrut bolted towards the noise. It had been heard all over the village, and many were also making their way to see what happened.

"Mother?! Mother?!" Baze shouted frantically, leaning over his mother as she struggled to breathe. Her hand clutched her chest, and the other tugged on Baze's arm. She held an unwavering gaze, taking in the sight of her son's face with a pained, resigned, yet loving expression. Her breath heaved laboriously and she grasped tighter at Baze's sleeve.

Sinse Malbus died staring into her son's eyes.

The grip she held on his arm loosened, and the love in her once-proud eyes seeped out.

Baze, grief tearing at his chest, shrieked like a wounded animal. Chirrut slammed open the door and found Baze sobbing and holding his mother's still body, and the blood drained from Chirrut's face.

He was too late.

 

* * *

 

When Chirrut felt Baze approach the Jedi temple two weeks after Sinse Malbus's death, he almost fell down the stairs in his haste to go meet him.

After finding him mourning over his mother's body those two weeks ago, Chirrut just barely choked out the news he had rushed there to give him—that his medicine dealer had just been arrested for counterfeit. Baze's wailing redoubled and he shouted Chirrut out the door, along with the few villagers who had entered behind Chirrut.

Chirrut understood Baze's need for space and resisted the compulsion to seek him out, but two weeks of zero communication was beginning to weigh heavy on his mind. He made no effort to hide his grin as he ran to greet Baze.

"Baze!"

"Hey, Chirrut," he replied, muted but amiable.

"How are…how are you holding up?" Chirrut asked concernedly, hand lightly touching Baze's arm.

"I am getting on. Moving forward."

Chirrut grinned and pulled Baze into a tight hug. He no longer cared about him and Baze looking suspicious in front of other people, even the Jedi wandering the temple courtyard.

"That is wonderful to hear," he said softly, digging his face in Baze's hair.

When they broke apart, Baze's smile had become sorrowful.

"Chirrut, I'm…leaving right now. Gonna go explore the rest of Jedha," he said, letting go of Chirrut's hand, "I just…I just can't stay here."

"I'll go with you," Chirrut declared without pause, and grabbed Baze's hand again.

Baze, taken aback, faltered for a moment.

"I thought you didn't want to be bound by anything."

"I won't be bound by you. And you won't be bound by me, either. We can be free, _together_."

When Baze didn't answer, Chirrut continued, rambling, "we'll be our own individuals, I promise, but I want for us to be our own individuals _with each other_ and I—"

Baze cut him off, laughing a genuine, joyful laugh, "Okay, okay, I get it! We'll go together."

Baze then glanced up at the Jedi temple.

"What about your Master?"

"Ah. He left this morning," Chirrut said, his excitement deflating a little.

"What?"

"He went back to Coruscant. I told him that I wanted to leave the Jedi temple to find my own destiny, and so he gave me his blessing. He left just this morning."

Baze, unsure of what to say, stayed silent. Chirrut quickly pulled himself together and grinned up at him.

"It's alright, though. It was inevitable. He told me that he was proud of me, and that I taught him more about the world than any of his actual Padawan did."

"I'm glad that you got to say goodbye to him," Baze said sincerely. Chirrut could hear the slight smile in his voice and pulled him closer.

"I am too."

They shared a quick peck, and when they broke apart Chirrut told Baze to stay put as he went to get his belongings and bounded away excitedly. When he returned with nothing but a bag of spare clothing and his usual staff, they walked towards the cave for the last time.

At the cave, Baze gathered up his things, putting on his shabby armor, strapping on his weapons, and packing his bag full of the supplies he had chosen to keep from his home. He recalled the note he had pinned to his door explaining his departure. He hoped those kids back at the village grew up happy.

When Baze stood up, Chirrut was holding the broken staff that had knocked him unconscious when he and Baze first met.

"I can't believe you kept this," Chirrut laughed, amused.

"Give it here," Baze asked, and Chirrut handed the staff halves to him and stood up, grabbing his own bag.

Baze laid the staff down at the very back of the cave, fitting the jagged edges together to rejoin the staff. He stood up and admired it. It felt symbolic, sentimental, somehow.

"You think anyone will ever find this place?" Chirrut asked, face turned to the staff resting on the rocky ground.

"Maybe we will, someday." Chirrut laughed at that.

They set off, walking across the desert with their arms brushing together. The air was cooling as the day closed. The sunset cast a vivid crimson glow over the expanse of sand and rock that stretched out before them. Baze looked over at Chirrut, reminded of their first meeting, when Chirrut's face had been illuminated by the same brilliantly red sunset.

The fiery star that most Jedhans called their sun was hanging low in the sky, but Baze's Jedhan sun was walking beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> TIMELINE (events with the *** are canonical within the Star Wars universe and serve as a frame of reference to show where the fic's events are within the current timeline)
> 
> 53 BBY: Baze Malbus is born  
> 51 BBY: Chirrut Imwe is born  
> *** 41 BBY: Anakin Skywalker is born  
> 39 BBY: Chirrut is abandoned by his parents after he went blind and is picked up by Tera Sinube, Baze's father dies and his mother gets sick  
> 36 BBY: Baze becomes an assassin to buy his mother medicine  
> 34 BBY: Baze and Chirrut meet (the events of this fanfiction occur)  
> *** 32 BBY: Qui-Gon Jinn dies, Anakin Skywalker becomes Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Padawan  
> *** 22 BBY: Tera Sinube meets Ahsoka Tano (the events of Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) occur)  
> *** 19 BBY: Order 66 is executed, and the Jedi Order is destroyed  
> *** 0 BBY: the events of Rogue One occur


End file.
